


AU!Danny Avidan x Reader: Breathe In, Breathe Out

by KingOfHearts709



Category: Game Grumps
Genre: Chapter-Based, College, F/M, Fighting, Forgiveness, Jealousy, M/M, Smoking, Weed, rebel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-17
Updated: 2015-12-17
Packaged: 2018-05-07 05:50:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 6,190
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5445581
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KingOfHearts709/pseuds/KingOfHearts709
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Just let the journey take you where it would, no matter how much breath you're losing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I finished it! It's all been written, and finally, something angsty as hell! xoxo

The most intimidating figure you had ever seen was towering above you.  
“Hey,” he said.  
“...Hi?” you asked. The man eyed you.  
“You in Mr. Hickey’s class?” You furrowed your eyebrows. “Fiction Writing.” You nodded. He took this as an invitation to sit down.  
“Why?”  
“I missed last class. Recognised you.” You sat up. You certainly didn’t recognise him. Maybe you caught a glimpse at him once or twice, but that may have been it. He rolled his eyes and sighed. “I sit behind you sometimes,” he said bluntly. “I’m Danny.” You gave a nod of acknowledgement. “What happened in class?”  
“Nothing much.” Danny shrugged. “Why’d you miss class?” He shrugged again.  
“Overthrowing the government.” You blinked. You gave him a once-over. He had brown eyes, but they were more soft than anything. The stubble he was sporting wasn’t very much taken care of, but maybe that was the point. “What?” he interrupted you.  
“I don't get it,” you said simply, still staring. Danny laughed a little.  
“It was a joke, first of all,” he said, sighing. Then he laughed. “Second of all, if I was overthrowing the government, I would be stupid to tell anyone. Unless they wanted to help me.”  
“So it's a joke,” you guessed finally, still trying to understand. Regardless of your misunderstanding, he laughed profusely.  
“Yes.”  
“Okay. It’s...kind of funny.” You had a false sense of confidence on, and you knew Danny could tell that very well. Not that he bashed it down. Maybe it would turn into real confidence soon.  
“I should go,” he said after a few moments, running his fingers through his insanely long hair. He motioned to you. “You’ve probably got other things you could be doing.”  
“Like what?” you questioned.  
“I don’t know. Friends. Homework. Life?”  
“And what if I don't have any of that?”  
“I’m just spitballing here.” You looked at him.  
“Well, I don't,” you told him with as much confidence as you could muster. He sighed, almost as if he really didn’t believe you.  
“Okay,” he said, sitting up. He sighed again. He seemed to be doing that a lot. “You trust me?” You opened your mouth to respond. Was he trustworthy enough to follow? You didn't know much about him other than his name was Danny. He could have been like the emo-esque people, dark and upset and Satanic or whatever other stereotypes you could think of.  
But Danny didn't quite seem like that. Danny was bigger. More intimidating. He was frightening, to say the least. You heard his laughter. “I can tell by your face that you don’t,” he said, shaking his head. You took a deep breath, building yourself up.  
“I didn’t say I didn’t,” you uttered.  
“You didn’t say you did, either.” You took another breath.  
“I don’t know. Maybe. I don’t know what trust has to do with it.”  
“It has everything to do with it.” Choose now. You had to, just make up your mind.  
“Fine. I trust you.” To an extent, you thought. Maybe those big brown eyes had some good in them. “Now what?”  
“Let’s go.” He stood up properly now. You grabbed your bag and stood up with him. He walked one way and you followed. Wherever you were going, you had to drive there because Danny was heading towards a car, presumably his. Someone called his name, and he waved his hand in a half-hearted response, but nothing more. You looked back to catch a glimpse at someone. The black eyeliner and pink hair dye. The almost dreadful, judging eyes. They were judging you. As if you were some foreign object to them.  
They were wondering why something like you would get in a car with something like Danny. A little shy, purple-shirted girl and a leather jacketed punk in the same area was uncommon.  
Well, fuck that.  
You could do it. The judgemental eyes made you snap in half inside.  
And the more you thought about it, the more rebellious you felt. The more you wanted to prove them wrong, that yes, you could do whatever you wanted, even if that meant getting in a car with Danny.  
You could take on anything.


	2. Chapter 2

You slumped down in the passenger’s seat, crossing your arms.  
“You alright?” Danny asked, concerned as he started the engine. You sighed and sat up enough to see clearly out the window.  
“Yeah,” you assured, even though he could probably tell you weren't. You felt the car move, decided to look through your bag. Some old granola bar, old worksheets, a few dollar bills buried somewhere underneath a book. “Where’re we going?”  
“Just for a drive,” he said coolly. “Down to the beach, if you want. There’s a secret cave place there.” You stopped and looked up.  
“That’s mildly killer-like.” He laughed.  
“No, no. The beach is far too pretty to cover in blood. If I was going to kill you, I’d just do it in my dorm room.” You coughed. “If.” You relaxed, but only slightly. Too much intensity.  
At the stoplight, Danny reached into his jacket, “I don’t suppose you smoke, do you?” he asked, pulling out a pack of cigarettes.  
“No,” you said. You watched him light it and breathe out a puff of white-grey before stepping on the gas again.  
“You can if you want.” You sighed. “But it’s cool, you don’t have to.”  
“I didn’t say I didn't want to.”  
“And again, you didn’t say you did, either.” He smoked his cigarette again, dropping ashes out the window. “Do you want one or not?” You nodded.  
“Yeah. Sure.” He motioned to his jacket, where you hesitantly pulled out the pack of American Spirits and a black lighter. You’d seen your mom smoke plenty of times. You knew how this worked.  
Put it between your lips. Light the end, breathe in, breathe out. Too easy.  
“Wow, pretty good for a first-time smoker,” Danny said, glancing over. You looked at the lit cigarette in between your fingers. “You’re sure you haven’t done this before?”  
“My mom smokes all the time,” you told him. “She used to ask me to try it, but my dad told her to stop. She didn’t, but I never accepted her offer anyways.”  
“I see. Your dad didn’t smoke?”  
“Asthma. Although he’d always have this smell to him when he’d been in his room for long enough.” Danny chuckled.  
“Honey, your dad was smoking weed.” You laughed a little, especially at the nickname.  
“‘Honey’?”  
“Well, I mean, I don’t know your actual name. Does ‘honey’ not work for you?”  
“It’s (YN), in case you wanted to know.” Danny shrugged.  
“I’ll stick with ‘honey’, honey.” You laughed again.  
It didn’t take much longer to get to the beach. It had been silent for the rest of the ride, but the cigarette covered it up. You were slightly fascinated with it, despite the taste it left in your mouth. It didn’t faze you. The taste was as normal as the smoke, and you were used to the smoke. You knew your fingers would smell from just holding it.  
Who cared? You were an adult, even if barely one. You could do whatever you wanted. Not that it meant you should, but you were going to. Proof, you reminded yourself.  
"Welcome," Danny announced once parked. Slightly tilted. Hopefully, his car wouldn't get bumped by another driver. He got out. "Follow me." He walked off away from the car.  
"I seem to be following you a lot," you quipped as you navigated the steep sandhill.  
"It was your choice," Danny reminded. "You didn't have to come. I didn't expect you to come anyways, but there's no going back now." Well, you could go back. Force Danny to drive you back to your dorm. Throw away his cigarettes and make him take off that stupid too-hot-for-spring jacket.  
"I knew that," you said.  
"You didn't," Danny said, shaking his head once you both reached the bottom. "You have no idea what we're doing here, no idea who I am, and no concept of what might happen. You're naïve." You stared at him.  
Who the fuck did he think he was? Some big-shot college punk guy who smoked and parked recklessly? Said that you knew nothing and that you were like a little kid?  
Hell. Fucking. No.  
"I don't care," you ended up saying. But you said it with enough emotion that Danny could tell you did. He didn't point that out  
"Whatever you say," he shrugged. He was walking away, probably towards the cave, but you stopped him.  
"Hey!" you said loudly. He turned to look at you. "I don't...fucking...care why I'm here!" More confidence, loud. "I don't care what might happen.” Be loud, keep it up. “I just... Fucking don't care." Danny laughed.  
"Okay, I see you're using the word 'fuck', okay. Didn't peg you for a curser, definitely didn't peg you for a smoker."  
"I'm not naïve, either."  
"You're not?"  
"No. You say you think I don't understand anything that's going on, but I'm not stupid. I've been around drugs and drinking."  
"Have you?"  
"Yes. Don't you...fucking tell me that I don't know." Danny just laughed again.  
"How often do you curse again?"  
"Not often. But I might as well start today." Danny shrugged.  
"Okay, honey. But you need some work on it."


	3. Chapter 3

“Let’s start off easy,” Danny said once you both reached the cave. “What’s your full name?”  
“(YN) (MN) (LN),” you muttered. You were a little pissed off, a little curious, and a little tired. “What’s yours?”  
“Leigh Daniel Avidan,” Danny said, sitting down on the large flat rock in the cave, the light from outside illuminating his face and yours when you sat next to him. “I’m Jewish.”  
“Are you really?” He nodded. You sighed. You had never really met someone Jewish before, or maybe you had and didn't know.  
“What about you?” he asked.  
“Uh... I never gave it a lot of thought, I guess...,” you answered honestly.  
“Think about it now.” You tried to. Nothing was coming up, really.  
“I guess I just don't care,” you said finally. Danny chuckled.  
“Well, we've got a Jew and a Who-Cares. Sounds like a match.”  
“A match?”  
“Figuratively speaking.” You rolled your eyes. He was leading you on, wasn't he? Or was he implying something? Or maybe he was being figurative and you were over-analysing information. You tended to do that.  
“Let's see, what else can we talk about...,” Danny mumbled.  
“What're you studying?” you asked.  
“Ah, a school question.” He breathed for a moment. “Well, by studying, do you mean a subject at college, or something in my own time?”  
“Either one, I guess.”  
“Well, I'm into music. And I sing and write stuff.” You motioned to him.  
“Won't the smoking ruin your voice?” He shrugged and shook his head.  
“I don't do it often enough. Usually on special occasions, which aren't often. Sometimes I have a ‘fuck it’ vibe and go through a couple.”  
“Special occasions?” Like Christmas?  
“Like this, you know,” he said, nudging you. “Meeting new people. Scaring assholes away.” You shifted where you sat to look at him better.  
“Is that why you dress like that?” you ended up saying before you could stop the words from leaving your mouth.  
“It helps. But the truth is, and you will never believe this...,” he leaned in like he was telling a secret, “I actually just like to dress like this.” You felt some guilt wash over you.  
Maybe you overestimated him. Or underestimated. You overestimated his looks. The way he dressed, the way he didn't brush his hair or the fact that his eyes held slight bags.  
What you found yourself underestimating was how he acted. If you looked closely, he was nice, somewhere in there. And maybe if you stuck around, long enough, past the asshole comments and phrases, he was funny. And a little cute. And you know you hadn't seen it yet, but he really could've been nice.  
You just had to make yourself stick along with it until he showed it or not.


	4. Chapter 4

You were alone in your dorm when you came upon an epiphany.  
You had only been drawing something at your desk when you noted that you were lonely for the first time since you built yourself your introverted shell.  
You liked being alone. It brought you comfort and joy and sometimes inspiration.  
But now, after the afternoon beach talk with Danny, after him driving you back to your dorm an hour later, saying that, “Maybe we should do this again,” you felt lonely. And you didn't like it.  
Your roommate was gone. She never seemed to be home, which was one of the reasons you liked her. In fact, it was odd for her to even be in your dorm. She spent her time with her boyfriend, which you encouraged.  
But you would have given anything for her to burst in and beg you to spend time with her right then.  
So you left your dorm. You didn't do this often, really. Just meandering around the halls and such. Looking for a familiar face from a class, maybe a professor you could chat with. Even an animal would do at this point.  
“Well, looks who's out walking already,” a voice said. You looked up to see a completely unfamiliar face.  
“Uh...,” you said, then pointed to yourself. “Me?”  
“Yeah,” the guy nodded. He had one hell of a beard and that kind of trimmed-bush hair. You kind of recognised him.  
“Do I know you...at all?” you asked him.  
“Sorry.” He held out his hand. “I'm Barry.” You shook it. “I'm actually in one class with you. Can't remember what it is, but all I know is that once class is over, I see you rush to the dorms.” He chuckled. Nervousness, maybe? He was fumbling a little, rocking on his feet.  
“Right,” you said. Well, he was in one of your classes. At least you were talking to someone.  
“Uh, well, I mean, I saw you walking around, and I was just about to go get coffee, if you wanted to come.”  
“With me?”  
“Yeah. With you. You and me.”  
“Uh... Yeah, sure. Let me just go grab my purse-”  
“It's fine, I can pay for it.”  
“Are you sure?”  
“Yeah.” You nodded. He was nice, wasn't he? Barry, with his trimmed-bush hair and thick beard. The checkered blue button-up that had an opening at his neck.  
He had to be.  
Once you and Barry had gotten to the coffee shop, he turned to you as you waited in line.  
“So, uh, what’ve you been up to?” he asked, like you two were friends catching up.  
“Uh, drawing and...other stuff,” you said. You weren't going to tell him you went to the beach with Danny. That was between you and him.  
“Oh, cool, I love drawing,” he said, then shrugged. “Well, I like art and stuff. Sometimes I try drawing and it never turns out right.”  
“You just need a little practice,” you chuckled. “It took me many failures to draw a good eye.” Barry smiled and nodded. You reached the front of the line, placed both your orders. Barry promptly handed the money over and left a dollar in the tip jar.  
“So, do you do anything else?” he asked as you waited for your coffee.  
“Not really, no,” you said, then blinked a few times when it occurred to you that you hardly did anything else but fill up sketchbook after sketchbook with pencil markings of the same fifty things. “Come to think of it, that might be all I do...,” you said slowly.  
“Well, look now,” Barry said. “You're at a coffee shop with me.” You chuckled.  
“That's true.”  
Someone behind the counter handed you both your coffee, snapping you away from looking at Barry with a stupid grin on your face.  
“Did you want to sit down?” he asked, pointing to the empty table behind you.  
“Yeah, I'd like that,” you said, both of you heading to sit at the table.  
You sat down and took a sip of coffee. You looked around.  
Oh, no.  
This was not what you wanted.  
You didn't want Danny fucking Avidan in line ordering coffee. Yet there he was. Leather and all, hair tamed a little more than usual, hand in his pockets.  
If he hadn't seen you already, he was going to when he turned after ordering.  
“What's wrong?” Barry asked, snapping you back to him.  
“Nothing, it's just someone that walked in,” you said. You decided to be truthful.  
“We can leave-”  
“No, no, it's fine. He might not recognise me, anyways.”  
“Honey,” were the next words you heard from the very same Danny, who had approached the table.  
“Hi, Danny,” you said, looking at him. He eyed Barry.  
“Hey,” he said, giving a half-wave, whether it was out of fear or otherwise.  
“Hey,” Danny said, but there was something sharp to his voice. A little pointy, edgy.  
Jealous.  
“Just thought I'd say hi,” Danny said, looking at you. He heard his name being called from the front counter. “I'll see you later, honey.” He walked off, grabbed his coffee, and left.  
“Is he your boyfriend...?” Barry asked slowly, hoping not to step on any toes. You shook your head.  
“No,” you said. “He's not.”


	5. Chapter 5

Fuck.  
Fuck, fuck, fuck.  
You hated yourself. You were about to swear absolute solitude and never leave your dorm unless it was for food or class.  
Fucking Danny.  
Honey.  
Jealousy lacing his voice. Glaring at Barry.  
Looking at you like he had been wronged.  
The only problem was that he was sitting five rows away in Fiction Writing, staring at you. Like he didn't even care what the professor was talking about, like all he cared about was you and whatever the hell you were doing.  
You just wrote something on your paper. A sentence to a story that you would probably trash later because anything you wrote was absolute trash.  
“Breathe in and breathe out, that's all I felt,” the story began. “Like someone was tearing away at me, like they were ripping my skin off to reveal a different skin. They were going to get me, God, they were going to change me. Danny is going to change me, why don't I care, what is wrong with me why am I doing this.” You noticed tears running down your cheeks. You folded up your paper and stuck it into your overflowing notebook.  
There had to be something wrong with you, something happening to you. You needed someone to make you forget everything, something to make you stop thinking.  
You knew who it was and what it was. But you had no way to bring yourself to face it.  
“(YN),” Danny said once he caught you down the hallway. You rubbed your eye and nose before turning.  
“Hi, Danny,” you said. Your voice had gone scratchy.  
“You okay there?” he asked. You nodded.  
“Yeah, I think I just need to...go to my dorm room.”  
“How about mine?” He smirked. “Not that you have to, but, you know.” You nodded without thinking again. “Okay.” You followed Danny, side by side.  
Barry passed you by with a curious look. He nodded but said nothing. Not judgemental, just...curious. Which was more of a relief than you thought.  
Once you reached Danny's own dorm room, you spotted a familiar person sitting on one of two beds.  
“I know you,” they said, pointing. You gulped.  
“Hi,” you said. It was the pink-haired person. From the car. With the judgemental eyes and face.  
The one you had come to prove wrong in the first place.  
“I'm Mark,” he said, nodding and raising up a wrist-banded arm in greeting.  
“(YN),” you replied.  
“Did you take her to the beach?” Mark asked Danny as you sat next to him on what must've been his bed. Danny nodded. “Special occasion?” Danny nodded again. How much did Mark know already? Did he know what happened at the coffee shop, too?  
“Hey,” Danny nudged you. “Relax.” He slipped off his jacket for what seemed like the first time in years. His had skinny arms, but his t-shirt was good. Metallica. Big thumbs on his hands. You lowered your books that had been up at your face.  
“Hey, (YN)?” Mark asked. “Can I ask you a question?” You nodded, hoping to God it wasn't about the beach. “Should I dye my hair purple or blue next?” Thank God.  
“Blue, I guess,” you said. He nodded.  
“(YN), come on,” Danny said, taking your books and bag away and setting them on the floor. “You can relax, honey.” Honey. Again. You wondered what Mark thought about that. What Barry thought about that. What anyone would think it they heard Danny call you that.  
“I know, sweets,” came your reply before you even had a chance to think about what you were saying.  
“Oh, reciprocating the nicknames, are we?” he asked.  
“Sorry,” you said quietly.  
“No, I like it.” He did?  
What was wrong with you?  
“So, next up is a question for you, (YN),” Danny said after a while of sitting and doing nothing. “You’ve smoked cigarettes. Anything else you wanted to try?” Mark chuckled.  
“Maybe, I don't know,” you said, shrugging.  
“Yes or no, because if not, then we won't smoke until you leave.” Another choice. Another outcome. You hated to be the one person that had to decide for everyone.  
“It's fine,” you said.  
“You're sure?” Mark asked as he reached for a drawer. You nodded. He shrugged and went for it. Pre-rolled in a box. With some kind of retro lighter, too. Mark moved to sit in the chair near Danny's bed as he took one hit and breathed it out. Danny was next.  
“Do you want to try it?” he asked curiously. You shrugged. “I mean, you can or you don't have to. It's not up to me all the time.” You wish it was. Independent choices like these were not your strong suit, you realised.  
You took the blunt and took one hit. Kind of like a cigarette. Way strong. You squinted your eyes at the taste as you blew out, struggling not to cough.  
“Smooth,” you said through a struggle of breathing. You forced yourself not to cough.  
“Smooth enough,” Mark interjected, leaning over to take it from you. It’s not like you were that high just yet. I mean, you felt a little...hazy, was it? Maybe. Not enough.  
The blunt was passed around a number of times, you shaking your head every so often. They were obviously used to it, despite Danny only smoking on so-called ‘special occasions’ or ‘fuck-it’ days. You wondered which one it was now.  
“Last one,” Mark laughed as he gave apparently the last bit of the blunt to Danny. Then he chanted, “Shotgun, shotgun, shotgun.” Danny shook his head.  
“No, come on,” he said, giggling, something you didn’t think he would be able to do through that punk attitude.  
“What’s shotgun?” you asked lazily. Danny turned to you.  
“It’s when someone takes a hit and then...blows the smoke into someone’s mouth.”  
“Sounds like fun.” Mark pointed at you both.  
“Do it, Danny,” he said.  
“Want to try it?” Danny asked you. You sat up, seeing as you were laying down, shrugging. “Do you?” Did you? You had no idea how you felt about this. You couldn’t tell. Some kind of weed-induced senses were telling you that, yes, you should because it was Danny and Danny was Danny and so why not? You didn’t know that your sober self would have said no, even though your sober self had gotten you into this in the first place.  
“Yeah,” you said, nodding. Danny nodded.  
“Okay, so here’s what you got to do,” Danny explained. “You have to...let out a breath first before I come with the smoke, okay? Then when I blow, you breathe in the smoke. Yeah?”  
“Okay.” And so Danny took the hit. He held the smoke in as he got closer. You head was spinning as wisps of grey escaped from his lips as they approached yours. You let out a breath like he said.  
Breathed in when he breathed out.  
Like your story.  
Like your story about Danny, about breathing in and out, tearing apart. About doing something wrong, something that was wrong. You were changing.  
So why didn’t you care?  
“How was that?” Danny asked as he pulled away, Mark’s faint chuckling in you ears.  
“I have to go,” you said quickly, standing up even though your head began to hurt. You grabbed your books, paper falling out of them, and your bag.  
“(YN)-” Danny began to say, but you had opened the door to try to make your way back to your dorm in a sky-high stupor. You brushed fingers through your hair, somehow thinking it was Danny’s. You shook your head and kept walking, even when your name was being called across the hallways.


	6. Chapter 6

You don’t remember how you got home. In fact, you don’t think you ever got home. This wasn’t exactly your dorm, your bed, or, in fact, your roommate. You vaguely remembered passing out, wherever or whenever that was.  
“(YN)?” a voice said. It was familiar. You thought about coffee when you heard it before you recognised its owner.  
“Barry...,” you said as you opened your eyes. He breathed a sigh of relief.  
“I thought you were going to sleep all night, so I gave you my bed,” he said, motioning to your surroundings. He covered his mouth as you looked down at yourself.  
“I...,” you started as you noticed the clothes that clearly didn’t belong to you.  
“I just...,” he started. “It wasn’t my idea, honest. And he left the room. But you smelled a lot like weed and I didn’t want you to wake up to that, so I...changed your clothes. I’m sorry, I’m really sorry. I swear, I didn’t look all that much-”  
“Barry, go back,” you said as you yawned, waving off whatever he was saying. “He who?”  
“My boyfriend. Mark.” You blinked.  
“Mark...who?”  
“Fischbach? Uh, pink hair? Wears a lot of black?”  
“Oh, my- He’s your boyfriend?”  
“Yeah. He’s... He’s outside, if you wanted to meet him.”  
“No need, I met him earlier.” Barry was silent for a minute.  
“You- When?”  
“When Danny got me to smoke weed.” Barry sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose before his hand covered his mouth half-way in curiosity.  
“Is it okay if Mark comes in here?” was what he asked.  
“What, why?” you questioned, throwing your legs over to the floor, trying to ignore the pounding in your head.  
“Because I need his to clarify a few things for me.” You nodded. He’d probably deny everything. Say that, no, you totally got high yourself with your own weed and was trying to blame it on him. Yeah. That was what he was bound to do. “Mark, come here!” The door opened and Mark stood there, hair, spikes and all, with just about the guiltiest looking Danny standing directly behind him. You glared at them both.  
“Barry, man, I’m sorry,” Mark began. “Slap me in the face, hit me, I don’t care.” Barry ran a hand down his face.  
“Danny, what about you?” Barry asked. Danny looked like a scolded puppy, making you feel almost sorry. He didn’t say anything. “Danny!”  
“It was my idea, alright?” he yelled. “Okay, Mark had the blunt, I asked her if she wanted to! She said she did, and I figured, you know, it would be fine, but it wasn’t, okay?”  
“You’re damn right it wasn’t!” Barry yelled back even louder. Louder than you thought he could. “I found her hyperventilating, high off her head in the middle of the hallway alone! Because you wanted her to try it!”  
“Alright, I get it, I’m a fucking dick! Stop yelling at me!” Barry stayed quiet for a minute.  
“Apologise,” Barry said, softer this time, but still stern. “Now.”  
“Alright,” Danny said, walking past Mark into the room, and though you expected his apology to be half-assed, angsty and unmeaningful, it was about half that. “Look, (YN), I’m sorry I asked you to get high, okay? I didn’t know you were going to freak out over shotgunning and run out. I’m sorry.” You hadn’t said anything through any of this. You figured you had no reply.  
“Whatever,” you said, and even though it sounded like you were mad, you didn’t feel mad. You didn’t feel anything, really. You just felt tired and hungry and that all you wanted was to go to Fiction Writing and write more crap that you would never have the heart to finish. You wanted to draw the same fifty things over again, except this time, you would be adding Danny’s face to your list, making it fifty-one.  
You wanted your shell back, you wanted to be alone again.  
“I need to eat,” you said, mostly to Barry, partly to Danny. Danny nodded.  
“Okay,” Danny said, moving away. Mark was outside the room around the corner, waiting for something to happen.  
“Danny, where are you going?” Mark asked. He shook his head before trudging off to the left. Barry stood up.  
“I’ll give you one of my jackets and stuff, okay?” he told you quietly. Mark poked his head around the door. “Mark, just go do something, okay? I’ll see you later tonight.” Mark nodded and you heard his footsteps fade away.  
“Where are we going?” you asked.  
“We’re just getting something to eat, like you want, right?” You nodded. “Yeah. We’ll just get some bagels or something. Maybe dinner, I don’t know. Whatever you want.” You nodded again.  
You’d be needing a talk with Danny soon. The only problem was whether or not you could drag yourself from your slowly growing shell to do it.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Last chapter! xoxo

Dinner with Barry was so silent that you almost thought you were dreaming. It was filled with Barry’s polite eating of his salad and your subtle gnawing on whatever was on your plate. You couldn’t remember what it was, but it filled your stomach and that’s all the mattered. He had walked you home afterwards, telling you to get him at his dorm down aways if you needed help or otherwise.  
What you needed was to talk to Danny. You kind of hoped you’d hit your head and then forget about all of this in a coma, but you never got to have the chance.  
There was a knock on your door.  
“Not now, Barry,” you said from your bed, as you hadn’t left it since you left class and went back to your dorm. Barry was planning on weekly check-ups if you didn’t leave your room, meaning that he was probably outside with your spare key about to open the door.  
“It’s... It’s Danny,” the voice replied from behind the door. You sighed. “Can I come in, please?” He sounded vulnerable for once. Like he knew he might get rejected regardless. There was no half-assing that.  
Which was what made you stand up and open the door.  
“Hi,” you said when you saw him. He didn’t look any different, but he looked tired. And his knuckles were white from clenching them.  
“Hi,” he said. You moved aside to let him in, to which he went to sit down in your desk chair as you returned to your bed.  
“So-” you began, but he cut you off.  
“Look, I’m sorry,” he started. You nodded.  
“I know.”  
“No, but... I mean, I’m really sorry. Like, you hyperventilated and all that and you were scared. And I just... I didn’t mean to do that.”  
“Yeah. I know.”  
“Why do you keep saying that?”  
“What do you want me to do?”  
“I want you to do something! Be mad at me or upset or forgive me. Do something.” You bit your lip. “I’m sorry, I really just...need something to make me understand what you’re feeling.”  
You stood up willingly for what seemed like the first time in a long time. You approached Danny and grabbed his hand to stand him up...  
...And slapped him.  
He recoiled in pain and held his now reddening cheek.  
“Jesus Christ,” he breathed, checking his hand to make sure he wasn’t bleeding.  
“That’s how I feel,” you told him.  
“Thanks.” It sounded sincere. “I probably deserve it, too.”  
“Yeah, you kind of do.” You swallowed your fear and waited for him to look at you. “But I think I deserve this in return.” You pulled on his shirt down to you and kissed him slowly. You could feel the stun in his lips when they didn’t move, and his hands hadn’t moved, either. Once your hands ran through his hair, he relaxed and finally he responded, but not how you expected.  
He was soft and nice and he had a gentle touch to your hips. You breathed out as you pulled away and looked at him.  
“I...,” he said, but no words escaped.  
“Come back tomorrow,” you told him, looking down at your shoes. He nodded, prying himself away as he walked out of your room and closed the door.  
You cried. You bawled, you let tears run down your cheeks and onto the floor as you curled into a ball alone.  
Barry came in only minutes later, hearing your crying from down the hall. Or maybe he just sensed it because he passed Danny on the way there. He calmed you from your tears as you explained to him what happened. Mark went after Danny to ask him.  
Everything was very analytical now. Danny and you were an equation, unsolved by either of you. Anyone could try get an answer, but you realised that there may not be one. All it may have been was an x and a y with no value to them.  
Meaning that the answer could be anything.  
Danny came back the next day, but he brought along a notebook. Filled to the brim with papers and lyrics. And your story.  
“Hi, Danny,” you said, hugging him. He hugged back warmly.  
“Hey, (YN),” he replied, but it seemed so quiet that you weren't sure whether he had actually said anything. “How are you?” You pulled back and closed your door.  
“Since yesterday, better,” you assured. He nodded and sat down on your bed, like last time. You pointed to his notebook. “What's that?”  
“It's, uh...,” he hesitated, “They're songs. Or lyrics, or whatever.” He opened it up and you could see the scrawls of words and cross-outs. You eyed the piece of paper sticking out from the back.  
“And this?” It was the only paper unattached to the rest of the notebook. He slipped it out.  
“Oh, uh, when you... You dropped it before you left my dorm. It's some kind of story, I suppose. It's yours.” He offered it to you, but you didn't take it.  
“You read it?” Now he was nervous. Which somehow seemed normal. If you had first met him, it would’ve been weird. Or different.  
“I... Yeah, I mean, I didn't know what it was. But...I read it.” Shit. “It's, uh,” he chuckled, “it's pretty angstier than I expected, but I like it. Even if it is that short.” He smiled now. All cheeky. But slightly humble. Jesus, what the hell were his emotions and why were they making yours go everywhere?  
“Fuck Christ,” you whispered. He laughed.  
“Woah,” Danny said. “You're getting a little better at that.” You sighed and took the paper, tossing it to you desk.  
“Danny, why are you here?” you asked him suddenly. He seemed confused.  
“Well, I mean, you asked me to be-”  
“No, I mean here. In my life. Why, out of all people, did you have to...ask me what we did in Fiction Writing?”  
“Well, why did you agree to leave campus with me?” He shrugged, continuing, “Why did you agree to a cigarette, or to weed? Why, out of all people, did you decide that I seemed good enough to continue to talk to?”  
Now that was a good question.  
“Fucking I don't know,” you said, leaning on your forehead. “Like, there's some nice somewhere in you. I think.”  
“You think?” You put your head fully in your hands.  
“Danny, I fucking don't know, okay?” Calm. “I can't figure it out, but I like you and you're good. And fucking whatever else you are.” You raised your head, if only to calm down, when Danny took it upon himself to kiss you.  
And you melted.  
You let him explore, roam, discover, and anything else he was doing. Because it was Danny.  
And fuck, it was just Danny. Danny Avidan who got you twisted in some kind of warped way that didn't quite make sense. It was like blind time travel, you supposed.  
You didn't know where you were coming from, where you were going, or even why.  
But you knew that Danny was there and that made it worth it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, wasn't that a whirlwind of emotion? xoxo


End file.
